


The battle against Writers Block

by Deer_Pastel



Category: Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Conflict, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Multi, Swearing, That’s all the genres I have so far so ye a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 22:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deer_Pastel/pseuds/Deer_Pastel
Summary: Just a bunch of drabbles I wrote based off prompts I gathered from Tumblr to break my writers block QWQ





	The battle against Writers Block

**Author's Note:**

> [1] “Hey Commie! You hunted any fucking bears lately? 
> 
> [Character B] rolled his eyes. “We don’t hunt bears in Russia. You must be even dumber than you look.”
> 
> [2] “Yeah, here we have to work for what we have, instead of mooching off other people’s hard work.”
> 
> “Yes, and thank God for that. If lazy people could mooch, you’d be latched onto me like a leech.”
> 
> [3] “I’m not someone who breaks easily, but I must commend you on this.”

 

 

[1]

 

“Truly atrocious of you, Alfred,” Arthur commented drily when he saw the burger wrappers spill out of Alfred’s pocket. Alfred made a face before he snatched the burger wrappers from the floor, ever the environmental friendly boy before tossing them into the convenient trash can just a few ways away. “Well, Arthur” he started, “I’ll have you know that _at the very least_ I have my necessary nutrients for the day.” He jabbed, pointedly staring at Arthur.

Arthur rolled his eyes, annoyed, and silently took out his earphones from his satchel. 

Seeing this action, Alfred took offence, “Are you trying to _ignore_ _me_ by listening to music?” “At least music calms my nerves unlike your damned voice that grates it,” quipped Arthur with a quick response, satisfied when he saw Alfred give up in his peripheral.

“This was supposed to be a _bonding_ outing, Artie!” He whined loudly; when he glanced back and noticed that, Arthur was just staring off ahead with earphones in his ears, Alfred pouted. “Well, that’s very gentlemanly of you,” he grouched, looking on ahead. 

They trailed the mall for a little while, before Alfred found himself a familiar someone to bother there.

“Hey Commie!” Arthur winced, Alfred’s voice was damn loud to be able to be heard over the blasting of his earphones “You hunted any fucking bears lately?” Alfred sure was desperate for attention to actually bother with Ivan in such a public place. Arthur sighed.

Ivan rolled his eyes from his place next to his younger sister. “We don’t hunt bears in Russia. You must be even dumber than you look.” He snarked, feeling his day was ruined.

Alfred looked about ready to retort when Arthur stepped forward, earphones unplugged and in his hands, “We’re so very sorry for the inconvenience, Ivan, Natalia” he paused to glare pointedly at Alfred “Alfred seems to be in need of a distraction, because I suppose as you both know, Alfred is _extremely_ easy to entertain,” Alfred closed in on himself when Arthur’s forest green eyes narrowed threateningly; sometimes he just hated how clever Arthur can be when it comes to his threats, really. A superhero shouldn’t be afraid of a measly little gentleman!

Ivan, thoroughly amused after the tirade only smiled at Arthur, “I suppose he is a handful, yes?” He looked on disarmingly, making Alfred want to gag. “Much of a handful, yes.” Arthur instantly agreed, “Thank you for understanding.”

“Oh it isn’t a problem,”

 

[2]

 

Giving a tour around his hometown to his mortal enemy (Arthur would scoff at that, but Alfred stood his ground) never really crossed his mind as an activity he’d take to during his summer break. He knew his hometown relied on tourists for income but _really_? Of all people, it had to be this particular Russian family that visited? Alfred sneered to himself, God was trying him, he knew it.

“It seems your people truly work hard,” Ivan commented, breaking Alfred’s stupor. Alfred couldn’t decipher the underlying meaning behind that comment (there was always a subtext to Ivan’s statments) and decided to just flow with it, not missing a beat to show his pride. 

“Yeah, here we have to work for what we have, instead of mooching off other people’s hard work.” Alfred’s tone was pointed, his eyes trailed after Ivan Braginsky who got himself into one of the top combat schools due to his namesake.

Ivan nodded, ignoring the tone used “Yes, and thank God for that. If lazy people could mooch, you’d be latched onto me like a leech.” Alfred grimaced, he was having none of Ivan’s bullshit at the moment and really he needed to let off some steam anyway.

“Oh? At least I got myself into Myester by _my own_ hard work than my daddy’s _name_!” He snarled, letting the boiling frustration that had been bubbling near the surface set free.

Dropping the mask of pleasantry after the provoking statement, Ivan bit back, “I _did not_ get into Myester because I’m a Braginsky. I got in from _my_ own doing.” Jones truly knew how to push his buttons, didn’t he? 

Well, two can play that game.

 

[3]

 

Francis, who stood in front of him, looked meek and guilty as he fiddled with the button of his fancy dress shirt. Arthur scoffed silently, how nice of him to dress up so well for a break up, hm?  

“So it was all a lie, wasn’t it?” Prompted Arthur, his forest green eyes trying to catch the elusive blues, holding great regret and it made Arthur feel pride course through for a moment because _damn right you should feel regret, you damned player._ Arthur focused on the frustration he felt than the small part of his mind that wallowed in sorrow over such a loss and indirect declaration that nobody would ever actually want him. _Stiff upper lip_ he tells himself every day and right when he decided to shed his fucking mask, that’s when life slaps him back in the face with reality, _Frankly my dear, you are quite the detestable person so it is only right that you are reinforced with that idea through such harsh means._ Arthur wanted to scream and lash out but _Stiff upper lip, stiff upper lip,_ he repeated the mantra in his head. Francis wasn’t worth the tears, he wasn’t worth the time he’d spend bemoaning their ‘break up’, if they were even _dating_ in the first place.

“It... it started off like that,” he admitted. Arthur sucked in a sharp breath; he wouldn’t say how that statement made his heart clench painfully, how the bulge in his throat felt tight and painful and how he felt so nauseous he wanted to hurl, no he wouldn’t admit those things to himself because he’s never needed anyone before so what made _now_ so damn different? 

“But I swear, Arthur,” Francis trembled, ridden with emotions and for a weak moment Arthur felt the urge to hug him and tell him it was _okay,_ that they could work it out but _no, don’t do that because then you’ll seem even more vulnerable to him,_ “the ‘I love you’s and the happy moments were all real, authentic, Arthur, I grew feelings for you!” Francis was desperate; he shouldn’t have agreed to that _stupid_ dare, he shouldn’t have started off with the intention to play with Arthur’s feelings, he shouldn’t have done so many things yet there he was, trying to salvage what was left from all his past mistakes. 

Pursed chapped lips trembled and Arthur could feel his resolve cracking but again he had to say _no no no, he wants you to fall for it again and he’ll laugh at how **weak** you really are. You’ll make yourself seem **easy** and **naïve**. _ Arthur couldn’t deny the truth, the last time he had it ended in disaster either way. He smacked his dry lips and looked into those charming blue eyes he had fallen for, the ones he drowned so far in but never bothered to swim back up to the surface because he thought he could trust them. 

Look where he was then, though.

“I’m not someone who breaks easily, but I must commend you on this.” He huffed with a casual air. “I knew you were a vain person Francis, but I never knew you had to prove how _perfect_ you are by trying your hand at charming your way with the _student council president_ , hm?” An empty smile was on his face and Francis visibly shuddered.

He licked his lips nervously, his thoughts going a mile a second but no words could help him out, he knew. “It isn’t like that—“ “Then _what_ is it like, Francis?” Arthur was seething now; he can feel his anger and disappointment bubble at the surface of his skin, he just wanted _out_ “You’ve already had your fucking fun, unless _this,_ ” he threw his hands up in the air to gesture, “is _also_ apart of some fucking scheme! To see the _fall of the student council president_. All, for one man.” Francis recoiled at the emotion and _hurt_ in those words; the once ruthless president was reduced to a dejected and hurt lover, and Francis was terrified of what he’s done. 

“Arthur, listen—“ “ _What_ is there to _listen_ to anymore, Francis?!” Arthur’s nerves were on edge and he didn’t want to be pushed over; he’d break down and he knew it, and it terrified him senseless.

“I’ve listened to _all_ of your _fucking_ lies and _stumbled_ and _fell_ for you! _What more_ do you want me to listen to?!”

**Author's Note:**

> Mmmmmmm the last one was getting long so i was like “hecc ok im just gonna break it off here”. ‘Sides, i actually wanna write a multi-chaptered fic on the third one,,,,, after Stickers, ofc my good m8s


End file.
